


feuillemort

by chidorinnn



Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends
Genre: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Gen, alternate title: Reiko's Book of Conquests, cross-posted from tumblr
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 14:45:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11359617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chidorinnn/pseuds/chidorinnn
Summary: Once upon a time, Natsume Takashi wrote down the names of his friends in a book. Years later, the book falls into his granddaughter's hands, and his friends want their names back.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> in which Natsume Reiko defends her house from a spirit seething from her grandfather's apparent betrayal

_For although a man is judged by his actions, by what he has said and done, a man judges himself by what he is willing to do, by what he might have said, or might have done – a judgment that is necessarily hampered, not only by the scope and limits of his imagination, but by the ever-changing measure of his doubt and self-esteem._

_– Eleanor Catton_

* * *

Reiko punches three ayakashi in the face and tells off a fourth on her way to her foster parents’ house from school. Touko responds with only mild fussing, so she pats herself on the back for a job well done.

“Oh dear,” Touko moans. She rubs vigorously at a cut on Reiko’s arm with an ice-cold cloth moist with something that makes the wound sting. Reiko sits rigidly in place, grinding her teeth together and clenching her fists, and fighting every instance to shove her away and get as far away as possible. “Did you fall _again_ , Reiko-chan?”

“Yeah,” says Reiko with forced disappointment. For normal high school students, falling down should be an inconvenience, and certainly something that should not be happening every day – except Reiko did not fall down today, nor did she fall the last several time she returned to Touko’s house with bruises and scratches. _Say, Touko-san, have you ever heard of youkai?_  is not a conversation she wants to have with her blissfully ignorant foster mother anytime soon, not when things have been going so well.

Touko sighs with more patience than any foster parent has had with her up to this point. “You have to be more careful, Reiko-chan,” she chides too gently for it to have any real punitive impact. “You could be seriously hurt one of these days!” Reiko considers bringing up the one time she _was_ seriously hurt – the one time that mattered, when Touko and Shigeru were there – but holds her tongue instead. 

“I’m making curry tonight,” says Touko as she ties the last bandage. “Do you think your cat will be able to eat that?”

_The cat doesn’t deserve your curry_ , Reiko wants to reply, but she’s sure he can hear her, even if he’s not in the house. “Yeah, that would be great,” she says instead, playing the part of the earnest, innocent high school student. 

Touko smiles – bright, kind, and so, so ignorant. “Good!” 

It isn’t until Touko moves to put away the first aid kit that Reiko sees the bandage around her right foot. “What happened there?”

“Oh, this?” Touko asks, waving her hand halfheartedly to it. “I stepped on some glass earlier. A vase in one of the storage rooms fell.”

_By itself, or did you knock it over?_ Reiko wants to ask, but refrains from doing so – that would open up a conversation that, as it was in past homes, would likely accelerate her shift to the next foster family. “You should be more careful,” she says instead.

Touko touches her cheek with one hand and gives the same bright, kind, ignorant smile. “I should, shouldn’t I?”

* * *

Predictably, there is an ayakashi in her room. It’s a small one, cute and round and probably capable of sucking her soul dry if she lets down her guard for even an instant. “Get out,” she says as way of greeting. Madara, curled into himself in a loaf-like position in a patch of sunlight streaming through the window, cracks one eye open at the visitor.

“B-But Natsume-sama!” the ayakashi says instead, waving its arms in the air. “Don’t you remember me?”

“No,” Reiko says with forced cheer, “and I don’t remember inviting you in and asking you to injure the old lady living here.”

“B-But that wasn’t meant for her!” the ayakashi protests. “It’s not my fault humans are too stupid to–”

“This is your last warning,” Reiko says, sparkling at it. “Get out of my house, and leave the old couple living here alone.”

“I’ll curse you! I’ll curse you and everyone in this forsaken–”

Reiko turns, impatiently, to the cat sitting just a little ways away. “You had one job,” she says. 

“Hmph,” Madara says, closing his eyes and further settling into his loaf-like position.

“The elders were right,” the ayakashi moans. “The human Natsume is a demon who should never be trusted, a bender of hearts, a conductor of–” Reiko stands, abruptly, and the ayakashi goes silent mid-tirade. In her desk is a book, and the pages flutter immediately in her hands. _Ye who must obey me, show me thy name._

A week ago, when Madara cared more about appearances, there had been a lucky cat statue lying still, collecting dust, at the top of a box carrying her grandfather’s possessions. It wasn’t until she touched the book that the statue had _moved_ , pouncing at her so quickly that there was only room for instinct and reflex, and she punched a spirit fully capable of destroying in an instant the seemingly idyllic life she’d stumbled upon. He warned her not to touch the book. She touched the book anyway, because Natsume Reiko did not take orders from youkai.

“If I return your name,” she says, “you will leave this house and make no further trouble for the old couple living here.”

“D-Do you really think it will be so simple?” the ayakashi splutters. “I was _betrayed_ –”

“This isn’t a request,” says Reiko. “I will return your name _on the condition_ that you leave this house and make no further trouble for the old couple living here. I’ll even let it slide that you already hurt one of them.”

“But you–”

“I have your true name here, and my grandfather’s blood in my veins.” The ayakashi squirms under her gaze, and Reiko does not avert it as she plucks its page from the book and holds it over her mouth. “Do we have an agreement?”

The ayakashi bows its head. “Y-Yes, Natsume-sama.”

“Place the paper deep in your mouth,” says Madara, “press your hands together firmly, and concentrate.”

Reiko breathes.

_I release your name._

* * *

Shigeru shakes her awake moments later, and she wills her body to lie still, to not show that it was another ayakashi she’d imagined instead. It doesn’t quite work – her arms come up to her face in an ineffective attempt to shield her face, and she only slightly grazes his leg as she kicks one of her feet out. His brow knots together, in what looked like signs of disappointment and disgust in every foster parent before him. _Such an ungrateful child_ , he should say. _You should show more respect. You shouldn’t act so strangely. You are not worth whatever obligation I have to your father._

“You’ll catch a cold if you sleep like this,” he says instead, not at all gently. 

There’s a dull, listless haze covering everything and a heaviness in her limbs that makes it difficult to move, and Reiko wonders if she’ll have to pretend that she’s caught a cold anyway.

Shigeru doesn’t wait for her to make up her mind. “Dinner is ready,” he says. As he stands, he takes Reiko’s arm and pulls her to her feet. “Let’s not keep Touko-san waiting.” He leaves the room before she can utter a single word.

“Come on, Reiko,” says Madara, waddling to her side. “Curry!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which Reiko meets her grandfather's closest friend, and adopts a cat in the process

Two days after she moves into the Fujiwaras’ house, Touko directs Reiko to a room filled with boxes of her grandfather’s old things. Natsume Takashi didn’t live here for a very long time, all those many years ago, but his presence was still well-documented and preserved – through piles of junk, leaves and flowers pressed into cards and stones that are more dust than sparkle, worthless trinkets that maybe held some special meaning for him even if that meaning is lost on Reiko. 

The only thing that looks remotely valuable is a lucky cat statue, white and orange and oddly smooth, even if it’s covered in a layer of dust. Reiko lifts it, weighs it in her hands, and wonders if her grandfather will be particularly upset if she sells it. She’ll need the money anyway, if she wants to avoid another foster family when the Fujiwaras eventually tire of her. 

Reiko sighs, and sets the statue aside before continuing to rummage through the box. Right under where the statue was before is a book, thin and worn around the edges, its pages filled with dozens of strangers’ names. It doesn’t look like it’s worth anything – it can stay in this house, collecting dust as it’s been for years.

Suddenly, there’s a gust of wind. The window is closed, which means that something is in the house. There will always be something in the house, as far as Reiko is concerned. She moves on pure instinct, catching the ayakashi’s movement in the corner of her eye before it can pounce on her, and her fist connects cleanly with it.

The lucky cat statue she was going to sell disappears in a puff of smoke. In its place is something massive and white, with large jaws that could probably snap her in half. The beast glares at her, snarling. Reiko glares back, and hopes that it can’t hear her heart hammering in her chest.

(She tries not to think of what it could do to the Fujiwaras, once it’s had its way with her. Youkai have always loved playing with their food before eating it.)

The ayakashi leans in close, sniffs at her long hair. Reiko flinches and squeezes her eyes shut. All of a sudden, it’s unbearably cold. After a long moment that feels like an eternity, it finally draws away. “You are not Natsume,” it says in a low, rumbling voice that reminds her of thunder.

But she _is_ – but then Reiko remembers that her grandfather used to live here, all those many years ago. “I’m not the Natsume you know,” she replies.

* * *

“So my grandfather left you here,” Reiko says once the ayakashi is a lucky cat statue again and not a towering beast. She has yet to calm down – her heart is still racing, and she can’t bring herself to sit still. 

The cat raises one of his paws and inspects it. “He asked me to stay here, yes.”

She has a baseball bat and an exorcism spell. If he’s a threat to this house, she can deal with it, because Touko and Shigeru don’t deserve this. They’ve done nothing to incur the wrath of youkai, aside from letting someone who incurs their wrath on a daily basis into their house.

“Why?” she asks. He could transform again, if she’s not careful. He could use those massive jaws and crush her, and the Fujiwara’s would maybe think she’d simply run away. Maybe they’d be upset, but not for long – but then again, those massive jaws could crush _them_.

The cat eyes her, and settles into a vaguely loaf-like position. He’s almost cute, if she looks at him from the corner of her eye, at a certain angle. “He asked me to stay here. So I did.”

It’s been so long since her grandfather last lived in this house. “Just like that?”

“Just like that.” For years, never moving, never betraying her grandfather’s trust.

That’s… sweet. Romantic, even. She doesn’t dare tell him.

“You’re an idiot,” she says.

“Not as much as you,” he replies.

* * *

Sometimes, Reiko dreams of a life spent with her grandfather. She knows logically that it’s an impossible dream – her grandfather’s been dead for years, almost as long as she’s been alive, and the family’s opinion of him is low enough that it’s unlikely that they’d ever let her live with him. Kooky old Takashi, always alone and raving about invisible things that didn’t exist in the natural world – a horrible influence on a small child, already crying about invisible things.

That doesn’t stop Reiko from dreaming, though. In her dreams, her grandfather is a warm presence, with a warm smile that feels like sunlight on a mild summer’s day. His hand rests on top of her head as he introduces him to friends of all ages, human and otherwise. The youkai are less scary, with him there. They won’t hurt her, and not entirely because her grandfather will protect her. She doesn’t have to pretend to be strong.

Waking from these dreams leaves an ache in her chest, and it’s infuriating how illogical it is. How do you miss something that you never had in the first place?

But then, two days after moving into the Fujiwaras’ house, Reiko turns onto her side and sees a lucky cat statue, curled into himself and sleeping soundly. She wonders why it never occurred to her before – that kooky old Takashi, always alone in her family’s eyes, had a great many friends that her family couldn’t see.

Hesitantly, she reaches out and lets her hand hover over the cat’s head. He’d introduced himself as _Madara_.

Reiko smiles, and lets her hand fall lightly on his head. He purrs, leaning into her touch.  _What a silly name._


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which Shigeru knows everything but also doesn't know anything at all

A long time ago, a man named Natsume Takashi spent his days with youkai. To the end of his days, he would insist that it was fairly easy to get along with a majority of them, if you simply tried. An ayakashi’s life was long – decades and even centuries longer than a human’s. Any amount of time a human spent with them, small of large, would pass by for an ayakashi within the blink of an eye – but youkai would remember, when humans often did not. There was always the chance that even the smallest encounter would create an impact that they would carry with them for the rest of their lives.

So Natsume Takashi would smile at every spirit that came his way, always endlessly kind, and say sweetly with his pen in a small book, “Will you please give me your name? I would love to see you again.”

* * *

Reiko is four years old when she first encounters an ayakashi and processes it for what it is. She’s young enough that whatever relatives have decided to take her in don’t detest her yet, and her quietness and reservedness are seen as something the other children in the house should aspire to and not as a sign of disrespect and ungratefulness. 

She’s lying on her futon in a feverish daze somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, the world slightly off-kilter in such a way that her thoughts stray from topic to increasingly nonsensical topic, no longer feeling like her own. She’s young enough that she’s seen as something to be pitied, frail and frequently ill as she is, rather than a bottomless sink of endless hospital bills and wasted time. The spirals on the ceiling blur together, distorted by fever, and she sees a hand reach out towards her. It would be easy to pass it off as a hallucination – and her foster parents would no doubt see it as such – but for the first time, she can’t deny that there is something else there with her, when she should be alone. She screams and her foster parents come running, and the ayakashi disappears before they can see what’s wrong. It’s a routine that repeats several times over, at least once in every household that takes Reiko in.

She learns to ignore them, pretend they don’t exist for the benefit of the people she stays with. Unable to get a rise out of her, the ayakashi turn to her foster families. In the beginning, it’s always the dishes and the vases – shattered suddenly, with seemingly nothing there to make them fall. The children point their fingers at Reiko, and the adults believe them – and why wouldn’t they, when the person they’ve taken so generously into their homes won’t say a word to defend herself? Then, things start to go missing around the house – keys, kitchen utensils, children’s toys, pieces of jewelry. The list of family members willing to take Reiko in shrinks as word spreads in family gatherings of the thief, the ungrateful little demon whose sole purpose in life is to bring ruin upon the kind, innocent people who only want to do her good.

(Reiko scoffs at this. Hardly any of them were _innocent_ anyway.)

As much as she wants to punch their faces in – youkai and human alike – her personal feelings matter very little when her fate lies in the hands of the humans that are supposed to care for her – and if she’s going to be able to defend herself and her family against youkai, then Reiko needs a roof over her head and food in her stomach. 

It’s easier, with Shigeru and Touko. Touko scolds her when she returns home late, but it’s different, somehow, from all the foster parents that came before her. Shigeru occasionally casts her lingering looks of disappointment, but there’s hardly ever the risk that she’ll have to move again very soon.

(One day, when Touko sneezes three times in succession and wonders if she’s coming down with a cold, Reiko offers to wash the dishes for her after dinner. An ayakashi peers at her from the window, blinking at her with large, glowing yellow eyes, and calls out her name in an airy, ominous voice.. Reiko startles and the plate she’s holding falls from her hand. Shards of porcelain scatter as the plate shatters, and Reiko drops the sponge into the sink as she sinks to the floor. “Reiko?” calls Shigeru from the next room. “Are you all right?”

Reiko presses her lips together and picks up the broken shards, and knows that she can’t blame youkai for this.  _Ungrateful child_ , is what he’ll likely say next. _We take you in, give you a home, and this is how you repay us?_

As Shigeru enters the kitchen, he gives her one of those looks of disappointment, and Reiko hates herself just a little bit more. He brings out the dustpan from one of the cupboards, and holds it out for Reiko to drop the porcelain shards she’s holding. He quickly sweeps up the rest of the shards on the floor, and deposits the dustpan’s contents into the trashcan, turning off the sink on his way back. Then he crouches before her again and turns both her hands upward. “Good… you aren’t hurt.”

Reiko looks outside and sees the ayakashi fleeing, and feels just a little bit braver. “That’s it?” she asks Shigeru. A part of her wants him to say what everyone else before him said about her – that she’s a burden, that she’s unwanted, that his life would be easier and happier without her around. A part of her shields her heart, and prepares for the worst.

He gives her that disappointed look once more, his eyes narrowing in such a way that she can tell he’s less than pleased with her. “We want you to stay, Reiko,” he says. “Please try to understand that.” The caveat being, of course, that there will come a day when he will not want her to stay. He wouldn’t be the first.)

* * *

When Reiko is fourteen, her foster mother hands her a black kimono and tells her to accompany her to a wake. There are too many relatives where they meet – some she recognizes, who do their best to avoid her gaze, but there are many she hasn’t seen before in her life. These relatives watch her closely when they think she isn’t looking. They tell her foster mother practical things, like: “I’m sure your son would like a quieter, more stable environment if he’s studying for entrance exams this year.” It makes Reiko’s blood boil, and she wonders if it would be so bad to leave right this very second even if it means spending the rest of her life in an uncomfortable, borrowed kimono – even if it means spending the rest of her life with youkai.

A man sits next to her. His black suit sits awkwardly on him and the lines on his face deepen as he offers her a gentle smile. “Noisy, aren’t they?” he asks. Reiko doesn’t answer; it wouldn’t be the first time a relative she’s never seen before approached her with the intention of taking her in and “fixing” her, and it wouldn’t be the last. “There’s a time and a place,” he continues. “No matter how you look at it, a wake isn’t an appropriate place to discuss such matters.”

Reiko has one picture of her parents, and she can’t find either of them in his brown hair and dark eyes. He wants something from her, most likely, and yet he’s the only relative there who’s talking to her, instead of about her to other people. “What’s your name?” he asks.

“Reiko,” she answers. “Natsume Reiko.”

“Ah…” says the man. “I had an uncle named Natsume. Natsume Takashi. Does that name sound familiar?”

“He’s my grandfather,” she says. “I never met him.”

The man smiles at her. “We lived in the same house for some years,” he says. “He was always so kind and gentle… but if you were to ask anyone else here, I doubt they’d say the same.” He sighs heavily, and his smile fades. “They never even tried to understand him…” 

Reiko wonders if, maybe, she and her grandfather are the same. She wonders how many ayakashi he met during his lifetime – if those ayakashi caused as much trouble for him as they do for her now. “I think I know why,” is all she says. People are always afraid of things they don’t understand – and how are you supposed to understand what you can’t even see?

The man pats her head in what he probably means to be an affectionate gesture, but his hand feels uncomfortably heavy on top of her head, and she has to fight off every instinct she has to flinch away. “Oh, my apologies,” he says, quickly withdrawing his hand. “How terribly rude of me! I should have asked first before doing that.” 

At that, Reiko snaps her head upwards and blinks confusedly at him. Was she really so obvious?

“I had a wonderful time talking with you, Reiko-san,” he says, standing up. “Good luck.”

When he leaves, there’s an ache in her chest. Could someone she’s only spoken to for a few moments see through her in a way that the foster parents who claim to know her so well never could?

(Six months later, she learns that yes, Fujiwara Shigeru _does_.)

* * *

“Isn’t it ironic,” Madara asks one day, “that someone who supposedly hates youkai so much lives with one?”

“You can leave whenever you want,” Reiko retorts. “No one’s forcing you to stay here.” Although that’s hardly true, and they both know it – the reason Madara insists on staying is no longer in this world. 

“You’re nothing like your grandfather,” he says. “He was actually _nice_ to us.”

“Maybe if you’d just leave me alone for once, I’ll be nice to you too.”

“And what about us? Why do we have to bend to the whims of puny humans?”

Reiko thinks of her grandfather, and all the names collected in his book. She could never be like that – not after youkai have driven her out of more homes than she can count, and especially not when so many of them are trying to do that to her now. She thinks of Shigeru, and of how long it will take for his patience with her to wear thin.

Then, there’s a knock at her door. “Reiko-chan?” comes Touko’s voice from the other side. “I’m coming in.” Her foster mother lets herself in, balancing a tray on one arm as she shuts the door behind her. “I made pudding.” Madara’s eyes practically sparkle, and he jumps to his feet and toddles over to her. Touko laughs, bending down to set the tray down on the table and scratch him behind the ears. “Of course, I made some for you too, kitty!”

Would she be this nice if she knew that she was feeding an ayakashi and not a normal cat? Would she be this nice if she knew that it was because of Reiko that he was here?

“Reiko-chan…” Touko says slowly. “Are you feeling all right?” Reiko blinks at her, unsure of how to respond. “It’s just that you haven’t left your room at all since coming back from school… Did something happen?”

Nothing that she can tell her – one ayakashi swearing revenge against her grandfather for taking his name, another trying to drain her life force under the probably false assumption that her grandfather had promised it to her at some point. “I’m fine,” Reiko says quietly.

But Touko’s brow is still furrowed. Her expression isn’t quite disapproving, but it’s obvious that she’s not happy with her. Not for the first time, Reiko wishes that she could be anywhere but here. Touko doesn’t deserve this. Shigeru doesn’t deserve this. “You know you can tell me anything, right?” Touko asks. “Whenever you’re upset, or you don’t feel well… it’s no trouble at all.”

_She’s lying_ , a significant part of her insists. Another part, smaller but somehow louder, wishes that Reiko could take her words seriously.

(Had any other foster parents made pudding for her like this, just because they could tell that she was upset about something? Had any of them bothered to ask her what was wrong, and offered their support anyway when she didn’t tell them why?)

“We want you to stay, Reiko-chan,” says Touko. “Please try to understand that.” 

Madara stares at Reiko sideways through slitted eyes. It’s the same look Shigeru has given her time and again – like he can see right through her, through every wall she’s built around herself, and there is nothing she can do to shield herself from it.


End file.
